


Sour Start

by drarryangels



Series: Drarry One-Shots [17]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anger, Angst, Anxiety, Arguing, Breakup, M/M, Mention of claustrophobia, PTSD, Post War, argument, mention of PTSD, mention of trauma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:55:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23331256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drarryangels/pseuds/drarryangels
Summary: Draco and Harry just got a new apartment together, and everything was wonderful. So why can't they make it last? Because now they're arguing all the time, and each argument could be the last before they're finally over.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Series: Drarry One-Shots [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672888
Comments: 4
Kudos: 35





	Sour Start

“I love you,” Draco said quietly, coming down from the horrible high of an argument. The room was empty, blank, devoid. Harry stood by the fireplace, his arms folded over his chest.

Harry shifted his weight against the mantle. “You wouldn’t say that.”

“I’m saying it now.”

“That doesn’t mean you mean it,” Harry snorted and his hands dropped. He walked across the cool room and dropped onto the couch. The air conditioner whirred sappily in the silence. How quickly a fresh start could turn sour, Draco thought. A new apartment for the two of them and everything was falling apart before they’d even unboxed the tea mugs.

“Of course it does!” Draco said defensively. There was no other way to say it now.

Harry looked away from Draco, towards the wall over his shoulder, and folded his arms again. “Prove it then.”

“I’ve been proving it since the day I met you.” Draco stood stock still; he refused to lean up against the wall, sit next to Harry, shuffle through their belongings, anything. Their arguments didn’t matter because they were Harry and Draco and they forgave each other for anything. But not this. This was different. Draco could taste the shift in the seven and a half feet between them.

“How?” Harry continued to stare over Draco’s shoulder.

“You really don’t know?” Draco rubbed his hands over his face.

The air was too sweet in this room. The living room had been why Harry wanted this apartment in the first place, and they’d kissed each other into wonders only an hour ago. How they’d gotten here from there, Draco had no idea.

“I’d like to hear it from you,” Harry said, stubborn hurt all over his face.

Draco supposed this whole thing was his fault. He’d accidentally broken a vase that the Weasleys had given them last Christmas and stuffed it into the cabinet under the sink to be repaired later. Of course, Harry had gone looking for it, and had found it stuck in the back of the cabinet. Really, it was a set up for just any old argument.

Except, then Harry got stuck trying to get the vase out of the cabinet. Draco had been two rooms over trying to suspend magic twinkle lights over their bed. By the time Draco found Harry, Harry was crying and whimpering between panicked gasps. From there, something unspoken had gone wrong and hours of screaming ensued before the landlord knocked on the door.

“I can’t believe you haven’t noticed _once_.” Draco lifted his hands from his face and threw them up in the air. “I mean, you can’t think of _one_ time I’ve showed you I love you in, let’s see…. since the day we met!”

Harry sat, still solidly positioned on the couch, every tendon exuding hostility. “If you’ve loved me that long, then it shouldn’t be an issue to just tell me.”

“Are you kidding me? If you ever loved me at all, then I shouldn’t have to explain to you how I loved you!” Draco shouted.

A kettle whistled from the kitchen, but neither of them moved.

“So you want me to guess?” Harry said, accusatory over the high hissing of boiling water.

“No,” Draco said. He pushed off of the wall. The sudden movement startled his legs, and Draco nearly tumbled over. “I want you to know love when you see it.”

“I do,” Harry said. His arms dropped to his sides, and he stood from his slump on the couch.

Draco thought that somewhere, somehow, sometime, now would be a good time to soften. That an apology might fix this between them at this point.

“No you don’t,” Draco scoffed. Unfortunately, being told that you do not properly love the person who you were born loving, by the person you’ve loved…. well, that’s not a recipe for forgiveness. “Not if you haven’t realized by now how…”

“How what?” Harry’s shoulders dropped, but it was too late.

“Nothing.” Draco picked up his wand from its abandonment on the armchair that Harry had fucked him on two days ago and threw a cloak over his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter.”

Harry was silent. Maybe he knew it was too late then, too.

Draco swished his wand aggressively and a multitude of belongings floated into the air behind Draco from all corners of the apartment. The items, everything from robes to potions ingredients to forks, dropped into a conjured box that taped itself shut. “I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

“So that’s it? We’re done and _you’ll see me at work?”_ Harry leapt away from the couch and towards Draco. His face was desperate, lost, confused.

_“_ You’ll find I’ve been thorough collecting my items,” Draco said coolly. Harry stared, looking into different corners of the room as if Draco might’ve left something there. There was nothing in those corners. The face Draco usually wore at work melded over his features, and cold professionalism replaced the man Harry had become familiar with. “Goodbye.”

Draco apparated away with his box. Harry wandered around the apartment in the silence. Draco had been thorough; the only piece left of him was the half done lights weeping down in the sunken air of the bedroom. Harry sat on the bed and cried as the lights dusted his shoulders. 

The air conditioner whirred on. 


End file.
